


Milkshakes

by jojo_sain



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: 50's aesthetic, F/F, F/M, Greaser AU, Harry Evie and Jay are in a greaser trio, Jafar's Jump Starts, M/M, Modern day technology, diner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 00:03:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15351753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojo_sain/pseuds/jojo_sain
Summary: On a very ordinary evening, Harry drags his two friends, Jay and Evie, out to his favorite diner in town. They find out pretty quickly that Harry loves that place for more than just their milkshakes...{Based on a Greaser AU made by evies-grimhildes on Tumblr. I'll put the link to it in the story so ya'll can check it out!}





	Milkshakes

“Alrighty, right through the doors and–“

“Good grief, Harry! Would you stop pushing us?”

“If you guys would just move faster, we wouldn't have this problem.”

“This place is open twenty-four-seven. There is _no_ rush. Now stop wrinkling the leather of my new jacket!”

Evie yanked away from Harry’s grip while Jay pushed him back. Both Jay and Evie gave Harry confused looks. Just fifteen minutes ago, they were all lounging around in Jay’s dad’s shop–Jafar’s Garage–when Jay announced rather habitually that he was hungry. Suddenly, Harry was dragging them out to their bikes and leading them down the expressway to some destination that only he knew. Evie and Jay struggled to keep up with him, for he was speeding even more than usual. Despite the difficulty, they eventually wound up at a quaint little diner decorated with the traditional black-and-white checkered pattern and an aesthetic mix of bright purple and pastel colors. On a giant sign above the entrance read the joint’s name in cursive fluorescent letters: Ursula’s Diner.

There weren’t many customers at the moment, but there were enough to keep the few people on staff busy. The three greasers stood at the front, where a sign on a podium promised them they’d be seated shortly. Jay tapped his foot impatiently while Evie tugged idly at the edges of her red, fingerless gloves. Only a minute had passed by when Harry couldn’t handle the wait any longer. One waiter–a man with cornrows and two arms full of griddle specialties–walked by, and Harry called after him, “Hey Jonas, I’m just gonna seat meself. Hope that’s okay.”

“No Hook, I’ve told you a thousand times–“

“Thanks, mate,” Harry cut Jonas off and ignored his reprimanding gripe. He grabbed a few menus from the podium and sped out of the older boy’s sight. Once again feeling the need to be physical and urgent, Harry pushed Jay and Evie over to an empty booth at the end of a narrow aisle. Jay slid into one seat while Harry sat across from him. Evie was going to sit next to Harry, but he refused to scooch down. While Evie didn’t think too much of it, she was definitely starting to wonder what was bringing about Harry’s bizarre behavior.

“You come here often?” Evie asked Harry. “You seem to know the place and the people pretty well.”

“Uh, yeah, every now and then,” Harry replied dismissively, though he wasn’t really paying attention to Evie. His head was on a swivel as his eyes darted across the aisle their booth was in. “And that was just Jonas. He graduated from our school a couple years back. Now he works here part-time to pay for community college.”

“Wow, you do come here a lot,” Evie noted, picking up her menu and scanning over the options.

“Why?” Jay asked while picking up a sugar packet and flinging it around between his thumb and forefinger.

“Uh...” Harry stopped watching the area around the booth and gave his friends a deer-in-the-headlights look. He glanced down at the menu and chuckled sheepishly. “Ye know, I just love their specialty fries. Just wait ‘til ye try ‘em.”

Jay and Evie exchanged a look. Their friend was definitely hiding something, and they didn’t like it. They usually told each other everything. What did Harry Hook have to hide from them?

After a few moments of reading over the menu–or in Harry's case, monitoring the rest of the restaurant–something at the top of the laminated list caught Evie’s eye. “Ursula Triskelion,” she mumbled to her table, and the boys looked up in interest. “Triskelion…where have I heard that name before?”

“Someone at our school, maybe?” Jay pitched.

Evie snapped her fingers. “Yeah, a girl, I think,” she said, tapping her chin in thought. “She might be in our grade, too. Damn, I can’t remember her name.”

Harry shifted in his seat but remained silent. Jay opened his third sugar packet and downed the contents like a shot. “Pretty sure it starts with an S,” Jay guessed.

“Doesn’t start with an S,” Harry said, trying to keep his voice even but Evie picked up on the obvious crack. She pressed her bright-colored lips into a firm line and narrowed her eyes at him. Now, his weirdness was making him somewhat of an ass.

For the umpteenth time, Harry peaked outside of their booth, except this particular instance, he recoiled back into the seat with the speed of a snake. He looked at his reflection in the window with the black of night as the background, tucking a few stray pieces of his gelled hair behind his ears and making sure his guyliner wasn’t smudged. Once he was satisfied with his look, he popped the collar of his black jacket, draped his arms over the back of his otherwise empty booth seat, and drew in a deep breath. Then, he picked up his napkin and unceremoniously threw it into the aisle.

Jay and Evie exchanged another look. _What the hell was he doing?_

Their answer came a second later in the form of an annoyed scoff followed by a sassy voice.

“For God’s sake, how hard is it to keep your napkin in your–“ Jay and Evie looked up as a young waitress rounded the corner, holding Harry’s napkin. Her pastel teal dress resembled a button down shirt on top and contrasted her dark skin tone. She had long, black-and-teal braids pulled back into a ponytail and a decorative assortment of sea-colored bracelets on both wrists. When her abyss-colored eyes landed on Harry, she stopped her snappy retort short. Harry smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes but let a small smile slip onto her features nonetheless. She playfully threw the napkin at Harry and said, “I should've known it was you.” 

Evie nudged Jay in the side, silently telling him to stop scarfing down sugar packets and pay close attention. Something very entertaining was about to take place.

Harry caught the napkin, not needing nor wanting to look away from the waitress. “Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t,” Harry boasted, puffing his chest out only slightly but still enough for Evie to take note. “How many customers drop their napkins like that?”

“More than I’d like to admit,” she answered, putting her hands on her hips. There was a brief moment of silence where neither of them said anything but neither looked away from the other. Then, the waitress glanced at a clock on the wall and cleared her throat. “What brings you here at eleven p.m. on a school night?”

“Oh, uh, me and my mates wanted a late night snack.” Harry gestured to Jay and Evie, the ladder of which internally screamed at Harry’s improper grammar. It seemed that the waitress noticed for the first time that there were people sitting across from Harry. She offered them a courteous smile before Harry added bashfully, “Where are my manners? This is Evie and Jay. Evie, Jay–“ He paused, looking up at the waitress with a look of complete adoration. “–This is Uma.”

Jay and Evie’s first thought was, " _Did_ _Harry Hook just say the word ‘manners?’"_

The two looked between Harry and Uma a few times before they both came to the same conclusion. Despite their scandalous discovery, they both put on friendly faces.

“Nice to meet you,” Jay said with an excessively happy expression before subtly winking at Harry.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Uma said to Jay before looking at Evie with an uncertain expression. “Though I think you and I are in the same AP biology class.”

“Oh, right!” Evie gasped, finally remembering why Triskelion sounded so familiar. Then, she felt the awkwardness that comes with forgetting someone you see every day. It wasn’t Evie’s fault she didn’t pay attention. That class was too easy! “I had no idea you worked here,” Evie added in an attempt to break the ice.

“Yeah well, my mom owns the place,” she pointed out in a low, tired voice. “So I’m the cheapest source of labor for the night shift.” She shook the fatigue out of her head and pulled a small notepad and pencil from the pocket of her white apron. She held them at the ready and gave Harry a warm smile. “Same as always, Harry?”

Evie’s never seen Harry’s ears turn such a deep shade of red.

“Uh yeah, sure,” Harry agreed, though the dazed look in his eyes showed he was only half-paying attention to what she was saying.

“What’s he always get?” Jay asked, and Harry was about to object when Uma beat him to it.

“Chocolate shake with whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, and a cherry on top,” Uma recited fondly, scribbling it down on her notepad. Jay found Harry’s regular craving so hilariously abnormal for the semi-psychotic Scotsman that he had to stifle his laughter by shoving his face into his elbow. Evie quirked an eyebrow at Harry, and a knowing smile spread onto her face.

Harry _hated_ cherries.

“Two more shakes for me and Jay, please,” requested Evie.

“Also chocolate?”

“Strawberry for me.”

Jay eventually settled down from his laughing fit and glanced at the shake options on the menu. “I’ll have cookies and cream,” he told Uma. Then he added in a devious undertone, “Also, can you bring out a pitcher of water?“ He gave Harry a mocking pout. “Harry’s looking a little thirsty.”

Harry glared daggers at Jay, who only snickered in response while Uma finished writing their orders on her notepad. “Alright, your shakes’ll be out in a sec.”

With one last look at Harry, she left the three greasers and disappeared behind the kitchen doors. Harry craned his neck to keep his eyes on her for as long as he could. Once Evie was sure Harry’s attention was up for grabs, she took her shot. “You hate cherries.”

Harry’s head snapped toward Evie at her statement. “What?”

“And you forgot to order the fries,” said Jay.

“Well I, um,” Harry sputtered, racking his brain for an explanation. “I wanted to give you guys some more time to look at the menu.”

Another waiter–one with short dreads–stopped by and set three glasses of water and a whole pitcher down on their table. Evie let the matter drop for the moment, but Jay wanted to continue patronizing their suspicious friend.

“I still can’t believe you come here alone to get shakes,” Jay chortled.

“What’s wrong with that?” Harry asked accusingly.

“It’s just that shakes are sweet and fluffy, and well, you’re not,” Jay told him, and a low growl rumbled in Harry’s throat. “And they’re usually meant for a shared glass.”

“Jay, don’t be so critical,” Evie chastised the boy beside her. “Who are we to judge if Harry has a recurring craving for a chocolate milkshake?”

“Thank you, Evie,” Harry said with a pointed glare at Jay. “See Jay? She recognizes that I might just want a good drink once in a while.” He smugly lifted his glass and started chugging his water.

“Oh,” Evie said innocently. “I wasn’t talking about the drink.”

Harry froze, took a second to think, and then choked on his water, spitting it onto the seat next to him to save his leather jacket. In the following instant, Uma came back with three shakes atop a silver tray.

“Alright, here’s your–woah,” she started, placing the tray on the table but stopping when she saw Harry coughing loudly and trying to mop up the water on his seat with his napkin. “What happened here?”

“Harry drank his water a little too fast and choked,” Evie replied sweetly, lacing her fingers together and placing her chin on top of them.

“Told you he was thirsty,” Jay joked, earning another glare from Harry.

“Well, here, let me help,” Uma offered, grabbing another napkin from an empty table nearby. Bracing one hand on the table, she leaned down and wiped away some of the water from the bright purple seat. She didn’t notice Harry stop to just look at her in awe because, _oh my god_ , she was barely two inches away from him.

After enough of the water had been cleaned up, Uma tucked the soaked napkins into the strap of her apron and handed the shakes out to their respective patrons. Then, she pulled her notepad out again. “Anything else I can get you guys?”

“Specialty fries,” Jay told her, and Harry kicked him under the table. “Please.”

“That all?”

“That’s all,” Evie confirmed.

“Great, I’ll be right back with your food,” she said before sticking the notepad back into her apron and turning to face Harry. She plucked the cherry from his milkshake and smirked mischievously. “Do me a favor and keep the milkshake in your mouth, k?”

Uma placed the cherry between her teeth, turned on her heel, and walked back into the kitchen once more. Harry’s face was redder than ever, and it wasn't just because he was short of breath from choking. Evie decided to call him out on it. “You like that waitress.”

“Shhh,” Harry whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t be so loud about it.”

“You’re not even gonna try and deny it?” Evie asked incredulously. “Wow, this one’s bad.”

“Must be someone really special if Harry’s digging on her this hard,” Jay observed before taking a sip of his shake. Disregarding all subtlety, he asked Harry, “How many times have you slept with her?”

“I haven’t,” Harry enunciated firmly.

Evie and Jay looked at him with utter bewilderment. The former put down her strawberry shake and tried to build off of Jay’s dead end. “Quickies in the kitchen?”

“None.”

“Made out on your bike?” Jay guessed, his voice breaking from astonishment.

“Not. Once.”

“Woah, who are you?” Evie laughed, and Harry looked out the window with an annoyed expression. “Are you saying that _The_ Harry Hook, self-proclaimed king of Make-Out Mountain, is actually trying to build a relationship with someone?”

“If by ‘build a relationship,’ you mean stalk her at her mom’s diner,” Jay quipped humorously. “Then that appears to be the case.”

“Oh, shuddap Jay!” Harry snapped, beat red from embarrassment. “At least I don’t hang outside the science lab building after school lets out.”

Jay cut his laughter short, replacing his grin with a defensive frown, and Harry seemed rather satisfied with his silence. Just as Harry had his diner waitress, Jay had his dog-loving genius. Evie chuckled and gave her boy’s an endearing look. They were both so cute when they were flustered, and she was proud of them for finally catching hard feelings instead of flirting with anything with a pulse. It was a nice change of pace.

“Okay, you both have it pretty bad,” Evie acknowledged as both boys slumped in their seats. “But don’t forget that we are all friends here. There’s no need to be embarrassed over a little crush.”

She pushed Harry’s drink toward him. “Enjoy your chocolate shake,” she said, a devious glint in her brown eyes.

“Ha!” Jay teased.

“And you enjoy your cookies and cream,” Evie instructed Jay, sliding his drink closer to him as well.

“Ha!” Harry teased right back.

Evie rolled her eyes at them as they all picked up their glasses and sipped at their shakes. Well, two of them got their straws in their mouths. One of them wasn’t so lucky.

“Hey, Harry–“ The boy in question whipped his head around so fast that his mouth missed the straw, and he ended up poking himself in the eye with it. Harry smacked a hand against his eye and groaned in pain. The one who called him–Uma, of course–furrowed her brow in concern. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Evie assured her, though Uma was skeptical and kept glancing at Harry out of the corner of her eye. Evie noticed something red clenched in her hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh, right,” Uma began, holding out her hand and showing Evie a red bandana. “Harry left this here a couple days ago. I just wanted to return it.”

“I’ll take that,” Evie announced, plucking the folded cloth from Uma’s hand and giving her a winning smile. “Thank you.”

Uma nodded, looked over at Harry one last time only to find him still clutching his face, and walked away again. By the time Harry was able to reopen his eye, Evie had already unfolded the bandana. On the inside, scribbled in black marker, was his cell phone number and the following:

**Wanna hang out some time?**

**-H.H.**

“You bandana-messaged her?” Evie gasped, a cat-like grin spreading across her cheeks.

“He did what?” Jay laughed. Though he knew full well what Evie meant, he just couldn’t believe it.

“So what if I did?” Harry countered defensively. “We used to bandana-message people all the time.”

“Yeah, when we were like ten and didn’t have cellphones,” Evie reminded him, yanking the bandana back when Harry tried to snatch it from her. “Did she ever use the number? A call or a text?”

“No,” Harry admitted, a hint of dejection in his voice. Then, his eyes lit up at another possibility. “Did she write a response on the bandana?”

Evie scanned the bright red cloth one more time. “Nope,” she told him, and Harry continued to look like a kicked puppy. Jay also took a look at the bandana.

“It’s because you did it wrong,” Jay concluded. “You forgot to write ‘Check yes or no.’”

“Shut yer trap, Jay,” Harry snapped back, attempting and failing to throw his straw wrapper at his friend.

“Harry, we’re seventeen,” Evie admonished, bringing the attention back to herself. “Just walk up to her and ask her out.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s because…” Harry looked around them to make sure there was nobody they knew sitting in any adjacent booths, then he stared shamefully at his hands in his lap. “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Jay asked, slightly amused at the idea of Big Bad Harry Hook being scared. “Afraid getting a real girlfriend might wreck your reputation?”

Harry sighed while Jay chuckled at his own chided remark. Evie watched Harry carefully as Jay’s words spun around in her mind. “No, I think it’s the opposite,” she told Jay before leaning her elbows onto the table and addressing Harry. “Are you worried she’ll reject you because of your reputation?”

Harry hesitated, and then slowly nodded his head. “Everyone at school knows I get around,” he muttered, idly swirling his milkshake with his straw. “She probably thinks I’m just playing some kind of game, what with all the girls I’ve been with before.”

“And guys,” Jay pointed out.

“Not helping.”

“Harry, listen,” Evie advised. “Don’t let your past weigh you down when you’re trying to make a better future. If you really want her to believe that you’re different now, then you yourself have to believe it first.”

Evie’s words of wisdom sunk deep into Harry’s brain like an anchor, firmly sticking themselves into his conscience. She was right, as always. If Harry wanted Uma to think that he was serious about dating her, he’d have to let go of his fling mentality completely.

“And don’t jump straight towards a relationship,” Evie continued. “Be friendly, hang out a few times, see how you two feel around each other. However, you can’t do any of that unless you ask her.”

Harry looked up at her and nodded his head. “You’re right,” he agreed.

“Of course, I’m right,” Evie boasted, flipping her azure hair over her shoulder. She saw a flash of teal coming down the aisle, and a smirk graced her lips. “And here comes your chance.”

Harry’s brows knit in confusion, but then Uma approached their table, a large basket of fries covered in cheese, bacon, and seasonings in her hand. She set them down in the center of the table, and Jay’s mouth watered as his stomach growled ravenously.

“Here are your specialty fries,” Uma announced proudly as Jay was already chowing down on the greasy delights. “Let me know if ya’ll need anything else.”

She turned to walk away again. Evie gave Harry an urgent glare and a head flick in Uma’s direction. He saw his opportunity and cleared his throat. “Actually, Uma,” Harry called after her, and Uma stopped, looking to him curiously. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Uma said nonchalantly, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s up?”

Harry opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips. As cliche as it sounds, he felt as though he were in the presence of a goddess every time he looked at her. A petite, sarcastic, greasy goddess.

Evie kicked him under the table, and that seemed to help Harry find his voice again. “Uh, I was wondering if um, if maybe you wanted to–“

_Crash!_

The sound of shattering porcelain interrupted Harry, and Uma rolled her eyes. She let out an aggravated groan before offering Harry an apologetic look. “Sorry, Harry. It’ll have to wait.”

She strode off, and the three leather-clad teens peered around the edge of their booth to see what all the commotion was about. Based on what they could see, a customer had smashed his coffee mug onto the ground.

“This is the shittiest customer service I’ve ever been forced to endure!” A large man sitting at the table shouted, drawing the attention of all the other patrons around him.

“Sir, please calm down,” Uma urged him in a steady voice.

“I will not calm down!” he spat at her, yet Uma didn’t even flinch. “I asked for more coffee forever ago, and nobody brought me no damn coffee!”

Evie cringed at the double negative. "Imbecile," she muttered under her breath.

“Just sit tight, I’ll get you some coffee,” Uma assured the man, but as she turned to leave, he stood up and snatched her wrist. Uma tried to tug it away, but the man only tried to yank her back.

Harry was already up on his feet. He covered the distance in two long strides and grabbed the man’s arm, detaching his iron grip from Uma’s wrist. Harry put himself right in the man’s screwed up face, which was about level with his, and whispered threateningly, “Watch where ye put yer hands there, mate.”

“Or what, Pretty Boy?” the man retorted, unimpressed by Harry’s show of valor. In one quick movement, he shoved Harry’s chest, sending him stumbling into the empty booth behind him. Harry was about to get up and fight back when Uma put herself between them, a cellphone brandished in her hand.

For a split second, Harry pondered whether or not his number was in that phone.

“You better watch yourself, Sykes,” Uma warned the man, who appeared to be the size of a bulldozer in comparison to her smaller frame. Despite the chance that she could get hurt, she was confident and composed. “I have the cops on speed dial, and we have security cameras all over the place, so save us both some trouble and leave while your hands are clean.”

Sykes considered her suggestion for a moment, a deep frown etched into his angular mug. After the longest pause, he tugged his worn blazer taught over his shoulders and walked away without another word.

Uma released a breath she had been holding, tucked her phone into her apron, and turned around. If Harry was in awe before, he was totally struck speechless now. He had barely pulled himself into a seated position while Uma told off a man twice her size and three times her body weight. He was never going to build up the guts to ask her out now.

Uma offered him her hand, which he took graciously before she pulled him out of the booth and back onto his feet. She pulled the lapels of his jacket to straighten the leather and keep her focus on something other than his blue eyes, which were practically glued to her.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved, Harry,” she told him, her tone reprimanding but not resentful. She let go of his jacket and finally looked up at him. “I appreciate the help, but I can handle rowdy customers on my own.”

“I know you can,” Harry said quickly, hoping his attempt to help her didn’t actually offend her. He bit his lip, trying to find the right words to say. “I just…just want you to know that I’m here for you when you need me.”

That sounded friendly and platonic, right?

Uma smiled up at him, which made Harry feel like his stomach was doing backflips. They were standing so close together that Harry could feel her breath on his neck when she sighed. “That’s really nice of you,” Uma complimented, placing a hand on his shoulder and sending Harry’s mind spinning at the contact. “But when you’re in the diner, I take care of you, okay?”

She tapped his chin and turned around, rolling up her sleeves to start picking up the shattered mug. Harry spun around to face his friends, who were watching the scene with rapt attention and fish-faces from sucking on their shake straws. Harry shrugged his shoulders and mouthed, _“What do I do?”_

With their free hands, Jay and Evie both made gestures to shoo him back to Uma. Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and moved to crouch down beside the feverishly working waitress.

“Here, lemme help,” Harry offered, pushing a couple pieces of the mug into a small pile that Uma had already begun to assemble.

“No, it’s fine–“

“Uma, please,” Harry urged her with utmost sincerity in his voice, and Uma stopped to look up at his grave expression. He flicked his head toward her hands. “You’re not wearing gloves. You’ll cut yourself if you're not careful.”

“And your gloves are fingerless,” she pointed out.

“Still less likely to cut my hands.”

“Harry, I’m not going to cut my hands,” she asserted stubbornly, tearing her eyes away from his devilishly handsome face and that stupid caring smirk. “I can do this on my–Ow!”

“Ye cut yourself, didn’t ye?”

Uma raised her hand to her lips and tenderly sucked on the skin of her palm. She shot Harry an annoyed glare after his ridiculous prediction came true. Harry kept sweeping little specks of ceramic material into the larger pile while he suggested, “Go clean yourself up and send Jonas or Gonzo over with a dustpan. I’ll take it from here.”

Uma eyed him suspiciously, considering his offer for a few seconds before deciding it wasn’t worth fighting him on. She was obviously bleeding and couldn’t risk getting blood all over the floor lest the diner’s health grade goes down the drain. With an exasperated groan, she pushed herself off her knees and stood up. She stepped over the porcelain mess and disappeared around the corner, still holding her palm to her mouth.

Harry watched her leave until she was completely out of view. Then, he turned around to his friends at the booth. Evie and Jay each gave him a thumbs up. Harry was beyond thankful to have friends like them.

* * *

By the time Harry and his friends had finished their fries (more like Jay gobbled them down while Evie and Harry ate like one or two each), the trio walked to the front of the diner. Harry offered to pay the bill, but Jay and Evie knew it was more than just him being nice. Uma, even though her hand was now cleaned and bandaged, was still a liability with making and serving food, so she was condemned to running the register. Harry told his friends to wait by the door, and they respectfully gave him the time he wanted to chat with his hash-slinging sweetheart.

“Your total is sixteen dollars, twelve cents,” Uma told Harry monotonously after she entered his order into the register. Harry rummaged through his wallet before pulling out a twenty and handing it to her. Uma took it without even sparing him so much as a glance, and Harry began to wonder if he’d done something to offend her on accident. The register opened, but Uma let her hands hang on the edge of the drawer for a moment. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“I never thanked you for earlier,” she clarified, finally meeting his eyes with her own. “So thank you for the mug and trying to save me or whatever.”

“Oh, that,” Harry said, scratching his check with his fingernail. “That was no problem. I just didn’t want to see you get hurt, even though I'm the one who ended up on me arse.”

Harry chuckled at his own remark, but Uma didn't seem amused. Now Harry was really concerned. All he did was help, right? He didn't say something stupid or put his hands on her or anything like that. Why was she suddenly acting withdrawn?

“In my experience,” Uma began with an exhausted and solemn undertone. “People don’t do stuff like that unless they want something in return.” Uma’s glare turned cold, and Harry felt uncomfortable. Surely, she didn’t think he expected anything from her.

Then again, he had that reputation.

“You think I want something?” he asked, and she shrugged, showing she really didn't know whether or not he had a catch. “No, of course not."

Uma narrowed her eyes at him, but Harry didn’t break under her scrutinizing gaze. She was looking for any twitch, any flinch, any indication that he was lying, but she saw nothing. Just the determination of someone only telling the truth.

Uma went back to working with the register, pulling out Harry’s change with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to antagonize you,” she apologized sheepishly, pulling a few ones and some coins from the register drawer. “You're just here so often, and while I like seeing you here and talking with you, I just get..." She paused, looking him up and down. "...paranoid. Do you want your receipt?”

“No thanks,” Harry said, accepting the three dollars and eighty-eight cents in his hand before immediately dropping the whole thing in the tip jar. “And I don’t blame you. Sometimes it seems like everyone hides behind a mask.”

Uma closed the drawer and looked up at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate. Harry smirked and added suavely, “For example, I just found out the waitress at a local diner has a wicked bark with the bite to back it up.”

Uma couldn’t help but laugh and roll her eyes at his flattery. Harry was happy to see her smile again. He found he’d do anything to see that smile, even order a cherry on his milkshake and let her have it every time he came to the diner. Uma leaned her elbows onto the counter and flicked her brows.

“Just as much as the rugged greaser has a soft side,” Uma quipped back, a knowing look in her eye. Harry held her gaze for a moment longer, his smirk only growing with every passing second. Eventually, she broke the silence. “Are you sure you don’t want the receipt?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

She bit her lip and turned back to the register, hitting a random button and holding her hand above the receipt printer. Despite Harry’s objection, she printed off a receipt and ripped it from the machine. The register blocked Harry’s view as Uma grabbed a pen and scribbled something onto the paper. Once she was done, she capped the pen and slid the receipt towards Harry, prices facing up. “Tell your friends it was a pleasure meeting them,” she said, a bashful grin on her face.

Uma then turned on her heel and walked down the counter to the other end of the bar. She grabbed a wet towel and started scrubbing the counter, and Harry figured that was his cue to take the receipt and leave. Harry walked back to his friends, reading the backside of the small paper. Under a phone number read the following in Uma’s handwriting:

**I got your message. I’m off Saturday. Arcade at 4?**

**-U.T.**

Harry’s phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. He received a text from the very same number on the note.

“C’mon Harry, let’s go,” Evie urged him from where she stood in the doorway. Harry blocked her out and opened his phone to look at the text:

_So?_

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see Uma staring down at the counter, and he assumed she was looking at her phone. Without another second of hesitation, he replied with his own text:

_It’s a date._

“We’re gonna leave you,” Jay announced as he was already out the door.

“Right behind ya,” Harry told them, making his way through the door and out into the night. Once outside, he took one last peek at Uma through the window. She was still looking down at her phone when a small smile gradually grew onto her face.

God, he loved that smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys thought in the comments. I'd love to hear your feedback!  
> Be sure to check out the original headcanons under the Greaser AU tag here:  
> https://evies-grimhildes.tumblr.com/tagged/greaser%20au  
> She's also working on social media aesthetics, and we're making a series here on AO3 called Jafar's Jump Starts. Stay tuned for more!  
> -JoJo


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